*/
Rudeness in the robing room, sledging tactics and the unkindness of strangers when you’re newly called. Rehna Azim on bullying at the Bar and what you can do about it
Actors often admit that a dozen good reviews can fade from memory but one stinker will linger and worm itself deep into the recesses of their psyche, gnawing away at their self-confidence, forever.
So, perhaps, does the unkindness of strangers when you’re a newly called barrister.
I was sitting in the robing room, sticking multicoloured tabs on my bundle. We still had paper bundles then, so you know this story is from long ago.
I felt a shadow fall over me. I looked up to see a tall woman in a ‘too short for court skirt’ glaring down.
‘So, what’s your case?’ she demanded. No greeting. No introductions.
Startled, I obediently laid out my case. It was a strong one. Surely she would recognise that and drop any futile opposition to it?
‘Is that it?’ she sneered. My confidence in my case began to wobble. Perhaps it wasn’t so solid?
‘What else?’ she barked.
I laid out my winning points. She snorted. My wobble toppled over in the face of her derision and lay smashed on the floor.
The solicitor for the children joined us. Short Skirt was suddenly all smiles and charm.
‘And what does the Children’s Guardian say?’ she simpered. They began to discuss the case. I tried to join the conversation. Short Skirt pointedly turned her back on me. Since she was taller than me, she also blocked my view of the solicitor. I had to scramble round her to see him. Each time I tried to speak, she talked over me, like I was an irritating, buzzing fly she had to raise her voice to drown out.
I went into the hearing bowed and humiliated, no longer sure of my open and shut case. Or even of my place in it. Perhaps the case was beyond me? How would I withstand the devastating cross-examination Short Skirt would undoubtedly unleash on my witnesses? Was I even in the right career?
In the event I succeeded in the case. Short Skirt turned out to be something of a damp squib when it came to the crunch. Even so, I didn’t have the courage, at the time, to stand up to her.
Now, of course I know of such things as robing room bullying tactics. I know that when advocates demand to know your case, it’s usually because they haven’t read the papers and literally want to know the case against them without troubling themselves to read it.
I know too that their rudeness is an attempt to intimidate. I also know that some experienced advocates deliberately target young, new colleagues in this way.
But back then I was still finding my feet in an already intimidating profession.
Short Skirt pressed every insecurity button she could find in me, hit every nerve of uncertainty I possessed and watched me implode.
In a funny way, though, I learnt from her. Learnt how not to behave. I told myself that, when I was more senior, I would never treat a newbie the way she had treated me.
I later learnt that she had various personal problems. It didn’t excuse her rudeness but it helped me understand possible causes for it. Who knows what private fears and insecurities she had lugged into our encounter that morning?
But I had feelings too. The fact I can still recall the incident, years later, suggests her belittling behaviour wounded me.
Rudeness can be a display of disrespect. Or a display of power. It can be a violent reflection of the person’s inner stress or unhappiness, taken out on someone else because they can’t take it out on the real cause or person.
The effect on the person at the receiving end can be severe. Sometimes even seemingly minor rudeness can trigger deep feelings of low self-esteem in us that our facade of confidence keeps hidden.
Colleagues who come to me for career coaching will mention a bad experience at court, in passing. They usually start by minimising the incident. However, when we explore it further, it becomes clear that the effect on them has been significant. So, we may have to look further back, into early experiences to explain the current impact. Each person’s experience has to be looked at individually but here are some general tips:
Rehna Azim is a family law barrister at 42 BR Barristers. She is the editor of itsalawyerslife.com and founder of The Legal Style Awards.
Actors often admit that a dozen good reviews can fade from memory but one stinker will linger and worm itself deep into the recesses of their psyche, gnawing away at their self-confidence, forever.
So, perhaps, does the unkindness of strangers when you’re a newly called barrister.
I was sitting in the robing room, sticking multicoloured tabs on my bundle. We still had paper bundles then, so you know this story is from long ago.
I felt a shadow fall over me. I looked up to see a tall woman in a ‘too short for court skirt’ glaring down.
‘So, what’s your case?’ she demanded. No greeting. No introductions.
Startled, I obediently laid out my case. It was a strong one. Surely she would recognise that and drop any futile opposition to it?
‘Is that it?’ she sneered. My confidence in my case began to wobble. Perhaps it wasn’t so solid?
‘What else?’ she barked.
I laid out my winning points. She snorted. My wobble toppled over in the face of her derision and lay smashed on the floor.
The solicitor for the children joined us. Short Skirt was suddenly all smiles and charm.
‘And what does the Children’s Guardian say?’ she simpered. They began to discuss the case. I tried to join the conversation. Short Skirt pointedly turned her back on me. Since she was taller than me, she also blocked my view of the solicitor. I had to scramble round her to see him. Each time I tried to speak, she talked over me, like I was an irritating, buzzing fly she had to raise her voice to drown out.
I went into the hearing bowed and humiliated, no longer sure of my open and shut case. Or even of my place in it. Perhaps the case was beyond me? How would I withstand the devastating cross-examination Short Skirt would undoubtedly unleash on my witnesses? Was I even in the right career?
In the event I succeeded in the case. Short Skirt turned out to be something of a damp squib when it came to the crunch. Even so, I didn’t have the courage, at the time, to stand up to her.
Now, of course I know of such things as robing room bullying tactics. I know that when advocates demand to know your case, it’s usually because they haven’t read the papers and literally want to know the case against them without troubling themselves to read it.
I know too that their rudeness is an attempt to intimidate. I also know that some experienced advocates deliberately target young, new colleagues in this way.
But back then I was still finding my feet in an already intimidating profession.
Short Skirt pressed every insecurity button she could find in me, hit every nerve of uncertainty I possessed and watched me implode.
In a funny way, though, I learnt from her. Learnt how not to behave. I told myself that, when I was more senior, I would never treat a newbie the way she had treated me.
I later learnt that she had various personal problems. It didn’t excuse her rudeness but it helped me understand possible causes for it. Who knows what private fears and insecurities she had lugged into our encounter that morning?
But I had feelings too. The fact I can still recall the incident, years later, suggests her belittling behaviour wounded me.
Rudeness can be a display of disrespect. Or a display of power. It can be a violent reflection of the person’s inner stress or unhappiness, taken out on someone else because they can’t take it out on the real cause or person.
The effect on the person at the receiving end can be severe. Sometimes even seemingly minor rudeness can trigger deep feelings of low self-esteem in us that our facade of confidence keeps hidden.
Colleagues who come to me for career coaching will mention a bad experience at court, in passing. They usually start by minimising the incident. However, when we explore it further, it becomes clear that the effect on them has been significant. So, we may have to look further back, into early experiences to explain the current impact. Each person’s experience has to be looked at individually but here are some general tips:
Rudeness in the robing room, sledging tactics and the unkindness of strangers when you’re newly called. Rehna Azim on bullying at the Bar and what you can do about it
Chair of the Bar finds common ground on legal services between our two jurisdictions, plus an update on jury trials
A £500 donation from AlphaBiolabs has been made to the leading UK charity tackling international parental child abduction and the movement of children across international borders
Marie Law, Director of Toxicology at AlphaBiolabs, outlines the drug and alcohol testing options available for family law professionals, and how a new, free guide can help identify the most appropriate testing method for each specific case
By Louise Crush of Westgate Wealth Management
Marie Law, Director of Toxicology at AlphaBiolabs, examines the latest ONS data on drug misuse and its implications for toxicology testing in family law cases
An interview with Rob Wagg, CEO of New Park Court Chambers
With at least 31 reports of AI hallucinations in UK legal cases – over 800 worldwide – and judges using AI to assist in judicial decision-making, the risks and benefits are impossible to ignore. Matthew Lee examines how different jurisdictions are responding
What has changed, and why? Paul Secher unpacks the new standards aligning the recruiting, training and appraising of judges – the first major change to the system for ten years
The deprivation of liberty is the most significant power the state can exercise. Drawing on frontline experience, Chris Henley KC explains why replacing trial by jury with judge-only trials risks undermining justice
Ever wondered what a pupillage is like at the CPS? This Q and A provides an insight into the training, experience and next steps
The appointments of 96 new King’s Counsel (also known as silk) are announced today
